


Aku Anwar

by gaskman



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaskman/pseuds/gaskman
Summary: vent poetry? I love sonnets. No deeper meaning than the words you intepret face value though. Complexity kind of makes you look kind of an asshole. But shallowness does too. So I guess I have to admit this is an earnest work done too quickly and too sloppily. Shitty work, but work nonetheless.





	Aku Anwar

Valentino

 

What is Not Good; Belly Beasted

Hark thy wishes, and curse all ye hypocrites!  
I was a son of a mother who could not help but take a bite  
Of the golden fruit of knowledge, whose contents were so tempting  
And yet, this knowledge, my mother used to make a terrible innovation  
What devil did she o clone was worth such consequence!?!  
The things she had risked for the sake of petty science!  
I am a boy who is all too fammiliar with the conquest of this discipline,  
But what had halted me from making the same sins?  
What third eye did I open, to foresee a terrible future?  
What had brought me to realize of my previous blind stupor?  
My mother, who could not tell me to take heed of a warning,  
Had engaged in a demon that sprouts its own white wings.  
It's face all too hypnotizing, the struggle to look away!  
Why did my mother think life was a game she could play? 

 

My fellow classmates, whom all deviate from the normalities,  
Seem to be people who would ignore their own moralities  
Doth they know the choice they will make,  
Would result in a very great mistake?  
They constantly confide me to join their cause,  
Their quest for science breaks laws and clause.  
This challenge I have, is to make either choice;  
To do inaction or to magnify my voice.  
Either choice, will result in my mind's own pain.  
I am conflicted, as my own self's in disdain.  
Why doth am I burdened with this terrible knowledge?  
I'd rather not be responsible, let someone else acknowledge,  
The difficulty of the choice that I have to take  
So someone else may suffer from this troublesome headache. 

 

Sarah 

Clarity is not Obedience

I had always been fond of the reckelessness I had seemed to potray!  
In my youth, I had (significantly) magnified my own leeway.  
Haha! I remembered the many japes I had sloppily done!  
Ah the years, everything was all in great fun!  
But now I see, what damage I might have produced,  
For my sloppy behaviour was dangerous (I deduce!)  
The rules I've bent and the judgement I've suffered.  
Still, I am a soldier. I shalln't flinch nor stutter.  
What commands I must obey, of either my captain or a god's commands.  
I comply, (what else is there to do?) I am in no position to make demands.  
I find, the struggle I experience to be the result of my incompliance.  
So, I cannot deter the inevitable, I shall place my faith and confidence.  
What else is there to do, but to wait for an outcome  
Their evaluation of me, as they examine and plumb. 

 

The judgement that I've been dealt with did not seem fair  
It was true, I SAY, I had brought more than just despair.  
What selfish sacrifice I had made that brought me to suffer?  
Quite simple, it was my inaction to halt the villains from plunder.  
The judge before me is none other than my father,  
And he biased, had spared his only daughter.  
O members of my crew, I did not wish you any harm!  
My cowardice had led me to save my own forearms!  
Yet you all had lost more limbs than the limbs i did not lose  
Would my inexperience be a viable excuse?  
But no, I think NOT! I was responsible for their great loss!  
This terrible event is something I've constantly glossed.  
What petty consequence did my father give me?  
Surely with such fault, they wouldn't let me free?

Sandra 

Ace

No, I have no third eye. No talent, no ambition.  
So piss off and leave me with my lamentations.  
Do not demand me with what I do not have, what I cannot cultivate.  
So do not push me to conduct your expectations.  
All I have are my eyes, I count two!  
And my shrinking deficient pathetic will.  
So, for emphasis, get the fuck away.  
You have no say, what summer's day, may be mine.  
So, I tell you the fault you carry, be weary,  
That what attack you strife, I will parry  
And be assured that my purpose is not to be a utility,  
I am no obedient servant, no weapon to your game,  
I am no fortune teller, the future I cannot see.  
Give me glory and mercy, give me no shame.

 

I am not the hand that you use,  
I am the dog who does not submit, footloose.  
I am Ford, a man you cannot afford,  
The girl whose eye has been taken, and who death had took hold.  
Soldiers and crime bosses may descend to their knees,  
To the man, whose name is Ford,  
And see a girl whose left eye has been taken.  
Don't be mistaken, it is my gratification.  
And what I will, the universe will bend to my wish.  
Because I am it's commander, not it's seer.  
I am no servant to its timeline or all knowing eye.  
Not a time demon, but a girl should they fear!  
I am no tactician, fortune teller of omniscience!  
I am the heir who lacks kindness and patience!

 

Reggy Grey - Time

Jester

I am the boy whose eyes are unseen.  
You cannot stare into them, my soul broken.  
And yet, my smiles radiate a great sincerity,  
They have no falsehood, and my words are outspoken!  
Be weary of the grin of a broken boy, or a broken woman,  
For they are sincere, in twisted mannerisms one can potray!  
They play with time, in ways they shouldn't,  
They wait for inevtability of the appearance of doomsday.  
And with my hand, I shall bring forth a storm.  
They shall bring death in it's wake, they shall purge to show you a god's might.  
They hoe what is broken,  
what is to be stamped off, so that life may begin anew.  
Because the loops must be broken, and who survive are few.

Let the conductor raise his baton, but know that I will strike.  
He commands linearity but I perpetuate deterioration.  
His symphony will end, and thus let the age of modern art spike.  
Let it take over and revitalize life for the old must suffer its destruction.  
And I shall be the one to oversee its fate.  
I am not its conductor but I shall be its highwayman.  
When bad roots have corrupted I shall remove its influence.  
And know that time is merciless  
For it breaks things who refuses to bend.  
This cycle is merciless, even those commited to repentence.  
I am the angel whose sword of fire will send,  
The will of God, and he demands the perpetuation.  
So who am I to deny his commandments?

JC

Aku ini binatang jalang  
Ku mau hidup seribu tahun lagi


End file.
